


tell me all you found was heartbreak and misery (why are you so quiet?)

by lostinthesounds



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Bellarke, F/M, season six spec
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-29
Updated: 2019-03-29
Packaged: 2019-12-25 23:15:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18271088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostinthesounds/pseuds/lostinthesounds
Summary: *Based off the Season Six trailer*“I don’t want to hear it.” She says angrily, a entire shift of mood from when she was alone — when she didn’t have him by her side, she pleads softly, “Please, don’t tell me.”She can’t think about it, not of what happened before the death wave that happened a hundred years ago.





	tell me all you found was heartbreak and misery (why are you so quiet?)

**Author's Note:**

> I had to do this for the fandom. 
> 
> Please enjoy! Much love <3

All she could see was a mixture of bright colors: pink, yellow, orange and blue. 

 

It was beautiful. The new planet was filled with color, something she’d never thought she would see again, especially not in this lifetime. It felt like all she could see when she closed her eyes was grey and black, such a darkness consumed her for so long. Clarke was lucky, she had a second chance at peace when she didn’t deserve it. 

 

Even if she didn’t deserve to remind herself of an old friend’s saying: _Earth was beautiful for what it was worth_ , it was true. Through all the emotional and mental torture she had to go through to get to this exact moment in time, she was somewhere, and that counts. 

 

“I don’t trust them.” A voice startled her from behind, but she still stands with her back tense and her arms crossed. She didn’t need to worry, not for a while. 

 

“They’ve lived here for centuries, I’m sure it’s just an instinct for you to be afraid.” She assured, keeping herself grounded when a pair of feet match her stance beside her. “It’ll be fine, you deserve to feel safe, Bellamy.” 

 

She tries to convince them both, but Clarke can’t bother to nag at the thought that creeps in the back of her mind. If only she could push it so far down, it would disappear. She wants it gone, the constant fear of being in danger. 

 

He adusts, trying to find where Clarke’s gaze lead to; a cluster of trees that grew in the distance, surrounded by colorful banners and cabins. They had just arrived to scope the area with Russel’s permission, and she couldn’t believe her eyes. This was a civilization of people, a group who knows how to manage their society the way it should be handled. 

 

It was shocking, and a lot to take in. 

 

“Aren’t you afraid?” He asks her, and he inches his body closer until she could feel the heat from his chest. _A lot to take in_ , she reminds herself again, when she feels her heart speed up. “We don’t know these people, they didn’t even know we existed before we got here. It’s exhausting to always be scared of something, but this seems too good to be true Clarke and I—“ 

 

She notices how he paused, the hesitation and the words dying on the tip of his tongue. Bellamy was powerful, his thoughts eager to be expressed but he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t say what he wanted to say, because it didn’t feel right. 

 

(Talking to _him_ , didn’t feel right. 

 

She hates that with every fiber in her body, she hates how different it all feels with him. Clarke wants _him_ , wants him to feel comfortable around her..but how?) 

 

She didn’t know how to express her thoughts either, so it wasn’t beneficial to either of them to figure out why. 

 

He was visibly frustrated now, having seen Clarke stand outside the cabin for a few minutes prior had ultimately ruled his decision, made by his heart because its the only thing he could offer her; the thought of her being paranoid about Russel and Lydia, was enough to make him worry too. 

 

A few seconds pass, and she looks around some more: the sky was more of an ocean blue, the sun was yellow and deep orange at the same time. She couldn’t take her eyes away from the sight, until Bellamy opens his mouth and her shoulders tense hard under her jacket. 

 

“Do you remember when we stood at the river, the time where I had saved you from one of Roan’s men from taking our supply of gasoline?” Bellamy questions with a hint of longing, his voice sounds distant as he remembers more and more and _more_ , until he tries to put himself back in that position. A position he would never be in for a second time because she wouldn’t allow him, “I told you that I had something to say, something important that....” His words drift off until it’s silent, “I couldn’t tell you.” 

 

He looks at her, Clarke knows he’s probably staring at the side of her head like it’s all he ever wanted, but she doesn't cave in. She can’t do that to herself, the memories and pain that she felt, the regret that seeped through her bones for years because she couldn’t let him finish a sentence. It was all she felt for a while, and her eyes shut to distract herself. 

 

“You remember that?” Bellamy repeats for a second time, when she won’t speak. 

 

“ _Yeah_ , I do.” She says, it was so low that she wasn’t sure if she even said it. “Of course I do, but that’s so long ago.” 

 

“Is it that hard to look at me? Please just look at _me_ ,” He asks, but more of a demand than soft spoken words. He was closer than before, and it was like she could feel his hand trail down her arm like a ghost — she wasn’t wrong, she doesn’t _know_ this Bellamy Blake. “The amount of time we’ve spent apart doesn’t mean anything, not if I know exactly what I was going to say to you.” 

 

“ _Stop_.” She bites back, stepping away to only see that his arm was strictly by his side and no where near touching her. “You don’t have to say anything else, I don’t need you to tell me.” 

 

“I wanted to remind you,” He starts to explain, but Clarke walked faster than the pace of the words leaving his mouth and she was right in front of the cabin door, so close to leaving him there; out in the warm sun, and the heat on his skin, with a twisted moral for wanting to confess to a girl who’s broken. 

 

“I don’t want to hear it.” She says angrily, a entire shift of mood from when she was alone — when she didn’t have him by her side, she pleads softly, “Please, don’t tell me.” 

 

She can’t think about it, not of what happened before the death wave that _happened_ a hundred years ago. 

She doesn’t look back anymore, and her legs start to burn with the intensity of wanting to get to the cabin as fast as she possibly could without running, until she’s at a sudden stop. 

 

“Don’t do that,” She heard, and looks down to see a hand wrapped around her wrist and a chest that’s way too close to her’s — “That is exactly what I meant.” 

 

“Well, I wasn’t the one who brought up a conversation that we didn’t have over a hundred and thirty years ago, now was I?” She counters, and Bellamy’s eyes only get softer and narrowed and she doesn’t know what to do next. 

 

She pulls but he won’t let go, “You stop me _every_ single time. Everytime I want to say something to you, or apologize for what I’ve done to you,” He stops for his eyes to run frantically across her face until she finally gets it. He regrets so many things, and it’s all because of her. She’s done this to him, “Clarke, you stop me when I want to speak. I don’t want that anymore, I want you to listen and understand.” 

 

“I can’t believe you.” She snaps, anger and everything in between was sprouting into something she can’t control. She was a mix of emotions; sadness, guilt and longing, pining for someone she wanted for so long but still can’t have. It was a simple statement, and it shut Bellamy up until all he was allowed to do was stare at her antics. “You don’t get to say that to me, not when I’ve been through so much. _Bellamy_ —“ she paused.

 

Just like color, there’s light and dark. 

 

Just like color, the lighter shades always turn to black when it’s used over and over again. The lighter shades always get darker when they mix together, and that’s exactly what was happening to her and Bellamy. She had to stop it. Not only does she have to stop him, but stop herself from wanting what he _wishes_ to give her, which is his love. 

 

 _No_. 

 

 _No_.  

 

She wont take it, no matter how much she wants it. She said his name with such despair, a final plead of her own to make him stop. 

 

“Clarke, do you wanna know something else too?” He asks her, but there’s so much anger in his words that it doesn’t sound like a question but of a statement he’s going to make, and he’s the one to let go of her arm before she could miss him. She freezes in place, afraid to move even when the stairs to the cabin are right _there_. He starts, “It’s like you always walk away from me, and that hurts me more than I’ve ever let you know.” 

 

It felt like a knife making its way into her skin, how deep her inner turmoil went was beyond what she imagined in that moment. Her mouth opens in shock and her eyes become blurry with tears, she couldn’t look at him. 

 

Was it true? 

 

She stutters, “Bellamy, I-I...please don’t say that to me—“

 

He cuts her off with a harsh tone as he adds on, “It hurts doesn’t it? That’s how I felt when I watched you leave from Camp, that’s how I felt when I watched you turn your back and stay in Polis, that’s exactly how I felt when you so willingly, left to the satellite tower without fighting Raven’s word.” He walks closer, but he feels like a world, a _lifetime_ away from Clarke. Bellamy’s jaw is clenched as he finished, “That’s how I felt when you wanted to leave me in Eden when I wanted to stay with you.” 

 

Clarke’s chest is caving hard, she’s certain that she’s breathing so intense that it’s the reason that her mind is spinning in circles. She doesn’t say anything, doesn’t reply to his confession of emotions that pierced his heart so deep that he finally let go. He let go of everything he’s ever felt for her, the betrayal, the heartache. _Everything_. 

 

She shoves Bellamy away from her, and she stumbled as she ran up the stairs and the door slams behind her. Both of her hands rub at her face, creating friction that leaves her cheeks a bright red and she has to do something: she sets her hands on a desk that sat at the corner of the room, everything physically hurts her and she can’t move from this spot until she calms down. 

 

Clarke caused Bellamy so much pain. 

 

She only did all of those things because she was running away from him, from all the feelings she felt for him. She loved him so much that she left him, she left him everytime it got hard for her to handle, and that was her reason. 

 

“ _Clarke_ ,” Bellamy whispered, her name coming out of his mouth with awe of the girl he knew like the back of his hand, of the one he lost for six years. The same girl who’s willing put him above others and hurt him all in a day, that’s her. 

 

“Haven’t you said enough?” She grips the edge of the desk, her emotions high and tears falling. Her throat burns when she speaks, “I’ve hurt you, Bellamy.” She admits, and she hunches over the table. 

 

“That’s something I never wanted to do to you, and I did _that_.” 

 

“I let you.” 

 

“That doesn’t make this, or me feel any better.” 

 

“Are you angry with me now?” He questions lightly, like he knew the answer already. Of course he did, she thought to herself. 

 

“No,” She says, “I’m angry with myself.” 

 

“I was angry at you, Clarke.” He admits to her, his face scrunched in pain — either from remembering the past or how much of his problems ended up being her’s — “I was so angry at you for leaving me, for disrupting me, for not caring...I could go on.” 

 

Clarke’s arms are shaking against the desk, and she struggles to keep her balance as her body threatens to let go and follow the path into his arms, but she doesnt let it. She shuts her eyes so hard until they hurt, they burned when she opened them again to his voice. 

 

“You radioed me for six years, and you left me in the fighting pit to die.” He exclaims, and she knows that he’s fighting the urge to get in her face to show her how angry he was, how frustrated and confused he was over her decisions. ( _Clarke must’ve cared about me if she called for six years knowing I wouldn’t answer, but she left me to die._

 

 _How much did she truly care? Not much_.

 

She could just imagine his thought process, and it tears her heart into pieces.)  

 

“I’ve always cared about you.”

 

“Show me,” Bellamy begs her, and suddenly he’s behind her and she looks over her shoulder with a gasp to find his face only inches away from her, and he looks so dazed that he might cry. “It’s hard for me to understand, that _you_ radioed me on a nonfunctional radio for six years straight, knowing I couldn’t hear you, and you _still_ left me to die.” 

 

“I’m so sorry Bellamy,” Clarke turns her head to face the wall, the tears keep forming in her eyes and falling onto her cheeks as her hands aren’t fast enough to wipe them away. She shakes her head at him, at herself for being so protective of the people she loved, she caused him pain. “I never wanted to hurt you, you know that. I left you all those times because I thought if I was miles away from home, from you, it would make me feel better about the things we did to survive.” 

 

“Feel better? You were alone!” 

 

He looks so confused, his brows furrowed together and his forehead creased in the middle. It made her fists clench, and she hoped it would be the last restraint to keep her true motives behind and hidden from someone who deserved to know why she didn’t hide things, but it would ruin their... _whatever_ they were. 

 

She was trying so hard. 

 

She always does. 

 

But, she caves into the lost expression written all over Bellamy’s face. She starts to sob, a loud and messy cry that has her face hiding behind a mask: both of her hands that damaged, killed, broken so many people. She even broke him, the one person who she loves. 

 

“I’m _so_ sorry,” She hiccups, and every few seconds she’s gasping for air because the tears are non stop. Everything in her past had caught up to her, and she couldn’t face her demons. 

 

Not when one of her demons was standing right in front of her. 

 

Especially not when Bellamy Blake was standing in front of her, desperate to touch her and console her even with everything that’s happened to them. With everything that kept them apart, he was clinging to Clarke. Her demon was made up of a man she’s always wanted, a man who she never seemed to love at the right time, a man who forgave her for horrible mistakes and actions, a man who thought he had pictured a ghost of his past when he saw her for the first time in six years. 

 

Clarke’s demon was in front of her face with tears brimming the corner of his eyes, because maybe they could do this the right way now. He scares her most of the time, because how can she feel so much for one person? Even with the things she put him through, to protect Madi, he understood why. 

 

She can’t get a proper hold of herself as her knees buckle, her body finally giving out under her, and she wants to know what it’s like to hit the floor. To hit rock bottom with no one to catch her, or forgive her soul for her mistakes, or to love her like she definitely does not deserve to be loved as. 

 

But, she doesn’t feel anything. 

 

Clarke doesn’t feel when her body hits the floor, when her heart pulsed intensely in her chest as the reminders of the monsters in her head come rushing back to her because it doesn’t happen. She doesn’t even touch the ground she walked on, because she gets caught. 

 

She doesn’t fight against Bellamy’s strong hold, or his warm embrace when he pulls her up and into his chest. He leads her down to the floor, where his scent is strong of forest air and fresh clothes. 

 

Or, when he’s wiping tears of his own after he spends a few minutes with his fingers caressing her cheeks. 

 

He holds her like they haven’t done terrible things to survive, like he doesn’t have a girlfriend who he’s already on rocky roads with, and it’s not even the part she grips onto the most. 

 

Clarke’s hand curls around the collar of his jacket, to give her an advantage and put herself in the crook of his neck. The intensity of her crying lowers, and when she’s able to breath normal again — she could only smell him, and she lets herself _feel_ it. She feels the way his arm tightens around her waist, and how he lifts her to rest in his lap and how steady his breathing is. She follows his breathing pattern, feeling a serenity wash over her entire body. 

 

It was like nothing happened. 

 

“I called you everyday, for six years.” 

 

Her voice makes such a sudden appearance that it makes him flinch. 

 

“I know,” Bellamy replies, “I’m sorry I didn’t hear you.” 

 

(His fingers tangle in the ends of her hair and when he stops, she nuzzles into him more to make him do it again.) 

 

“I would do it all over again, to show you that I really do care about you.” Her voice is raspy, and it’s almost hard to hear the way she sighs against his skin. 

 

She adds on quickly, “I never stopped, no matter how ugly things got.” 

 

He doesn’t say anything, but it makes her take in her surroundings. She was on the floor, taken into Bellamy’s arms because she wouldn’t stop crying and his shoulders were still tense with an emotion he won’t say aloud, and she doesn’t want to move from this spot. 

 

Is the new planet a fresh start? She has no idea. Do her people deserve a new beginning? Maybe. 

 

“Whatever this planet throws at us, do you promise we’ll do it together?” He asks after a while, he whispered. “I don’t want to do this without you.” 

 

“I promise,” Clarke assured with a nod as best she could, like she said earlier, she didn’t want to adjust in his grasp. She’s never been more honest about anything, It felt too nice, like a dream. “But, what do you mean by not wanting to do _what_ without me?” She questions him again, “We’re gonna survive this, like always.” 

 

She could feel him shake his head back and forth, and then swallow the nerves in his throat. Although, he sounds confident. 

 

“I meant, _living_ , Clarke.” 

 

 _Oh_. She didn’t know how to respond to that, her smile grew too wide to even think of something to say. 

 

* * 

Bellamy was right, she should be afraid of the strange civilization. 

 

She should be afraid of a Red Eclipse. 

 

She should be afraid of another version of her past that came back to haunt her. 

 

She should be afraid of her own people turning against eachother. 

 

 _And she was_. 


End file.
